


Bury Me At Nain Rouge

by mentalstrainatdawn



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Western, Bounty Hunters, Campfires, Case Fic, Depressed Hank Anderson, Explosions, Gun Violence, Horses, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Slow Burn, solar powered robots, sumo is a horse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 03:46:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17635412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mentalstrainatdawn/pseuds/mentalstrainatdawn
Summary: The Jericho Gang have become a thorn on the Cyberlife Company’s side for far too long. So they call upon Hank Anderson, notorious and jaded bounty hunter, to help them with their little revolutionary problem. But in order to take the job, he must have their newest and most eager prototype, Connor, join him as they track down Markus and his gang across the western frontier. But even unlikely partners can find comfort in each other's company when the desert is so vast and lonely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Small World Building Notes!  
> -I couldn't pretend one of the coldest cities in Michigan would be in the old west so I named the central town after one of Detroit's urban legends, Nain Rouge (Red Devil)  
> -Automatons = Androids with slightly different mechanics  
> -Suspend disbelief! lol 
> 
> x~x~x~x
> 
> Art by the brilliant Syn! Check out her twitter @synturtle and her tumblr @roomfullofcunts

The midnight train speeds across the western desert leaving plumes of deep blue smoke in its wake. Two engineers toil to keep the machine’s burning heart alive. Chunks of Thirium coal fly into its iridescent flames, pushing the Cyberlife locomotive and its eight carriages through the night. 

From a safe distance, on the other side of the Thirium flames and coal, Allen stands guard. Not to protect the train as much as the precious coal that keeps Cyberlife moving. 

And the train full of Automatons of course. Ready to be delivered to high bidders and folks with expensive taste. 

“Boss?” The newbie designated to the other carriage comes in. Eager young thing, odd eyes though. Unsettling. “D Carriage is experiencing issues with one of its wheels. We gotta make a stop.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Allen groans and gestures the newbie to follow him “Lets relay to the engineers, come on.” 

Working around the near priceless coal, he gets the attention of the two Automatons working the flames. Another thing that’s unsettling is how these dolls fucking work and work and not even look like they could do with a stiff drink. He knows they ain’t human but… it ain’t human. 

“Stop the train!” He yells through the thunderous roar and the two Automatons look at each other and then at Allen. 

“We’re instructed to reach Nain Rouge by sunrise.” One replies with a professionally friendly monotone.

“You’re also instructed to follow my command! And I’m commanding you to st-AUGH!!” the locomotive picks up such incredible speed that Allen is whiplashed across the rail. He looks back only to see the newbie standing at the front of the coal carriage, connecting link in hand like a weightless joke, waving goodbye as the rest of the train, and all its expensive content, lags behind the speeding engine.

“Sonofabitch!” He reaches for his rifle and fires but his bullet strays. They’ve reached the canyon bridge and new terrain of rickety wood messes with his aim. He growls knowing he’s lost, no way his aim could reach that rookie now. The rest of the train lags to a halt before it even reaches the bridge... but it’s not until the locomotive crosses the other side that the structure bursts into a fiery explosion of splintered wood and metal.

The bridge is burned. The locomotive has no choice but to keep pushing forward. 

 

x~x~x

 

November 5th 1908

The town of Nain Rouge sits along a deep and dusty canyon where the only source of life is the Kurgan river before it disappears beyond the desert. Much like the citizens who live off it, the river is uncontrollable and violent. Only one thing manages to reign in the sheer force of both and that’s the Cyberlife Company. Automatons, trains and everyday appliances spread across the western frontier to remind everyone who runs it while their lives are made just that little bit easier.

Hank Anderson fucking hates Nain Rouge. He’s old enough to remember when the town was nothing but a saloon and gold diggers before Elijah Kamski was even a twinkle in his father’s eye. Before he strolled into town with big ideas and a fresh new resource to suck dry from the Earth. That’s when Hank started to hate Nain Rouge. His mood is as grim as his scowl, which he keeps under a wide-brimmed hat the same dark shade that matches his duster. His horse, Sumo, walks at a slow pace as if aware of how little his rider wants to be there. Or maybe he shares Hank’s sentiment. It’s hard to tell what his oldest companion is thinking. 

“I know, I know. We won’t stay long.” He coos through the shadows of the buildings looming over them. Hank is sure they get taller every time he comes back. Which isn’t often because Hank prefers it when he can see the sky, thank you very much.

Then he sees them. The Automatons. Of all the things Man could have invented he decides to play God and create life - if you could call it that - out of nuts and bolts. People praise Kamski for such a technological marvel. After all, workers who require no maintenance? They’ll have the whole west networked in time to invite the in-laws for Christmas! Or so the running joke goes. And now they mingle through the folk of Nain Rouge, human in appearance if it weren't so distinctly different. One crosses in front of Sumo, nearly startling him had Hank not been paying attention. 

“Watch where you’re going!” he grumbles, the single little light, usually a steady pale blue, on the Automaton’s temple blinks in the familiar distressed red. She apologises several times but Hank ignores her. His goal is in sight and is already itching to get there. He reaches a shady trough and secures Sumo to it before feeding his (only) friend an apple he’d saved up. Old boy needs a treat. And as if taking his words to heart, Hank makes his way towards the saloon entrance. 

 

x~x~x

 

Sundown comes and goes over at the Cyberlife Company factory but Connor remains waiting ever patient for the arrival of the bounty hunter. Amanda’s impatience, however, is palpable. She gets up from her desk to gaze from her office window. It has a beautiful view of the town, just far away to keep a watchful eye. She likes to keep a watchful eye.

“Find him. I’ve been informed he arrived in town hours ago. I’m sure you know where to look.” Amanda’s command doesn’t break her concentration from the view and Connor needs no more instructions. Anyone who's spent days travelling will head straight to the saloon to quench their thirst. And if the information Cyberlife has on him is correct, Hank Anderson is notoriously thirsty. 

The Cyberlife Company factory isn’t far from the Eden Saloon but Connor still makes sure his horse, an angry thing that was assigned to him called Gear, hurries along towards the main street. The lack of sunlight, of his source of energy, always has Connor’s system whirring on edge. He knows he’s got plenty in his tank, the fumes from the Thirium coal alone can keep his pump going for longer than any human. After all, that’s their purpose, right? Amanda has reminded him of this several times, and yet that need to keep everything in check when the sun goes down is always there. 

 

x~x~x

 

The Eden Saloon is bursting with noise by the time Connor latches Gear outside. He fixes his neat black tie before making sure his grey jacket and hat are clear of any of the ever constant desert dust. His waistcoat also remains pristine enough to merit a pass. He can hear faint piano chords but it’s only when he walks through the swinging doors does he hear the cheerful tune. People crowd the bar with different stages of drunk and pleasure. A beautiful Automaton, an Eden Saloon favourite with blue hair by the name of Echo, titillates the audience in colourful feathered garments. She moves her wrists in delicate motions along her visible ball joints visible. Keeping her image as doll-like as possible. Her presence on the stage keeps Connor unnoticed as he weaves his way towards the bar. He eyes through each of the sullen drinkers but his immediate attention is drawn towards the one who seems to have no interest in the spectacle on stage, unlike the rest of his fellow punters he seems much more interested in his dirty glass of whiskey. 

“Lieutenant Anderson?” Connor tilts down ever so slightly to make sure the man notices him.

“I wish people would stop fucking calling me that...” Anderson groans into his drink but doesn’t bother to look up from it. 

“Are you not Lieutenant Hank Anderson?” Connor persists. 

“Christ… yes. Yes I am. Who's asking?” He gives Connor a visible once over before going back to his drink. Clear that he has no interest in speaking to someone who, by their standards, isn’t considered a ‘who’.

“My name is Connor, I’m the Automaton sent by the Cyberlife Company.” 

“The fuck you want Connor from the Cyberlife Company.” 

“I’ve been instructed to escort you back to Amanda Stern’s office down at the factory. There’s some business you were expected to discuss upon your arrival.” Hank refills his drink while Connor relays his careful instructions. He can tell from the amount left in the bottle (Whiskey.) that Hank has drunk most of it… before he’s started spilling it that is. 

“Oh yeah, I was told not to show up until after sundown. I figured I’d kill some time.” Hank sways every so slightly on his seat with a hint of a smug smile. 

“Madam Stern expects you there immediately.” 

“So she sent her poodle to fetch me. Cute.” He takes another swig of his drink and pats the stool next to him “Take a seat, Connor, I’m not going anywhere till I finish this bottle that Jimmy oh so kindly let me nestle.” Hank pours himself another drink, considering the conversation to have come to its natural conclusion. Connor, however, begs to differ and leans in a little closer to Hank. 

“It’s ill-advised to keep Cyberlife waiting. Amanda is used to finding business elsewhere. With someone who will consider Cyberlife a priority. I’m sure there are plenty of potential candidates in this room alone.” Connor pretends to scan around the floor while Hank lets out an audible grumble. 

“Jimmy! Save the bottle for me. I paid for it and I’m coming back to finish it.” Hank gets to his feet like he hasn’t downed near half a bottle of whiskey and beckons Connor to lead the way. 

 

x~x~x

 

“Lieutenant. So glad you could join us.” Amanda doesn’t bother to stand up and Hank doesn’t bother to extend any form of greeting. Instead he rests his hands on his belt, gun holster bouncing against his thigh as Hank takes a bored stance while Connor watches Hank’s disinterest and lack of decorum with silent fascination. 

“You guys really need to stop calling me that. The war was long ago, Stern.” Amongst the few humans who work in the factory, it’s common knowledge that Amanda can be… intense. As one is prone to be in a position of such responsibility. And yet for Lieutenant Anderson, her presence and piercing gaze seems to have little to no effect. 

“Your reputation is hard to shake off Anderson.” 

“And yet you only wanna meet up under the cover of darkness. Not gonna lie, it makes me feel a little cheap.” Hank makes his way to the nearest chair opposite Amanda and slouches on it with the grace of a relaxed lion. 

“Said reputations has turned into notoriety, in part. But we’ll make sure to compensate you for the inconvenience.” 

“And and what are you paying me for anyway?” 

“I need you to track down and take care of some deviating Automatons.” As if reading off a list, Amanda’s words have little flair considering the large task she’s designating.

“Still having trouble with the Jericho Gang, huh?” Hank’s snide comment hits Amanda right in her pride. The recent train robbery is further proof that they have become an ever grown stain on Cyberlife. She will see to it being removed. 

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, Mr Anderson but I assure you this is purely preventative than reactionary.” She keeps her composure, Connor sees the smile on Hank’s face, he can read her as well as Connor can, he’s sure of it. 

“Sure. It’s still going to cost you.” 

“Fifty thousand if you deliver their leader.” Connor knows that to Cyberlife that means nothing, Amanda does too but Hank still gives an impressed whistle.

“Dead or alive?”

“ If this leader is indeed an Automaton, and for the sake of this argument, I need it returned to me alive. I won't have Cyberlife property damaged.”

“Fair enough.” Hank gets to his feet while Amanda tries to hide a smile.

“Which is why you’ll be taking Connor with you as part of the deal.” Her voice comes out playfully innocent.

“No fucking way ma’am.”

“I’m built to be the ideal travel companion, Mr Anderson. I will be of great help.” Connor’s temple light blinks yellow for a moment. Long enough for him to catch Hank noticing. Meanwhile, there’s something about his dismissal that roars in Connor’s mind at the thought. He’s yet to try his skills in the field, yet to prove his worth to Amanda. And yet he fears that his chance is over before it’s even begun. 

“I don’t need a fucking companion.” Hank snaps back in a growl. 

“These are the conditions I’m afraid. We need to ensure you uphold your end of the deal and not break anything. If you don’t like them I’m sure I can find someone else. I hear Mr Reed is also in town.”

“Fuck that. Fine, I’ll take it. Come on tin doll.” And just like that Connor is assigned as the bounty hunter’s companion. The moment passes fast and unceremoniously, however, as Hank is already halfway out the door with Connor close behind.

“So where do we start, lieutenant?” Connor does his best to not come off as eager. After all, this is what he was built for, but for the first time, he finally gets to put himself to that use. 

“Back to the Eden Saloon.” 

“Good plan. There are rumours that members of the Jericho gang frequent there. There are thousands of pages worth of transcripts. The Cyberlife Company pays good money to have ears everywhere in town… But never anything concrete. Still, it’s as good a lead as any.”

“Uh, yeah sure…” Hank doesn’t seem to be entirely listening to Connor. Perhaps he already has a plan...

 

x~x~x

 

“Jimmy! I’ve come back for my bottle!” 

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Nope.” Hank pulls out the cork with his teeth and takes a desperate swig before pouring some in his glass. “Don’t suppose it’s worth asking if you want a drink?”

“You’d just be wasting it. And something tells me that every drop counts.” Connor doesn’t bother to hide the distaste in his voice. Well, that’s new… he’s never disappointed an Automaton before. 

“Don’t push your luck, you may be the Cyberlife Ambassador but you’re still a breakable commodity.” A glass is placed in front of him which Hank starts to fill with the amber liquid, not caring how much he spills over the dirty wooden counter.

“An expensive one, so I’d be careful Lieutenant.” Connor’s tease leaves Hank quiet. Nursing his drink before emptying his glass and filling it up damn near immediately.  
And that’s how the evening goes. Hank dulling his senses as the night bursts around him with music, fighting, gambling and music ad nauseum. Connor keeps silent throughout this display. Every part of his brain tells him that factually speaking this is Lieutenant Hank Anderson. His brilliance rose him up in the military ranks even in the bleakest days of the war. All the information Connor has accumulated tells him of his long history of hard, diligent work. And when it was all over, he disappeared. Only to emerge once again as the Hank Anderson. A shell of the man he used to be as far as Connor’s concerned. Currently slouched and unmoving, the Automaton leans down, close and closer still to check Hank’s pulse. Well, he’s alive. He’s just passed out. That’s something although it’s definitely not useful.

Connor’s eyes linger through the saloon. On the stage, an Automaton has the whole crowd drawn in by his dulcet tones. His ballad is soulful enough to draw silence from the mostly drunken crowd. A rare moment of peace. It’s then that Connor’s eye catches a woman barging out a room on the top floor in a panic. It takes a moment for Connor to place her before he recalls her as the Automaton with the dance routine from earlier. It’s only for a moment before her composure is regained but her temple light remains a flashing red. Her demeanour doesn’t seem out of the ordinary to those around her, ignored by everyone except Connor’s watchful gaze. And for a moment he almost gives up until she reaches the door. There she happens to meet Connor’s eye. He recognises the look in her face before she bolts out the door. Panic. 

“Lieutenant!” Nothing. Hank is three sheets to the wind. Connor tries his best to sit Hank up straight but Hank is dead weight, mumbling and groaning as his eyes open and droop between blackout and consciousness. Connor grabs Hank by the collar and with a swift motion slaps him across the face. The crack is loud enough for several other punters to turn their head but soon lose interest. Even Jimmy’s long since stopped caring about them. 

“Whu...” Hank flails for a moment which would have been almost comical if Connor wasn’t aware of every passing meant the Automaton getting further and further away. Connor lifts Hank with effortless ease and pushes him with a slam through the swinging doors, outside into the cool night air, and dips Hank’s head in the nearest trough to try and gently persuade him out of his inebriation. He resurfaces Hank a second later while the horses (even a rather bored Sumo) scuffle out of the way. 

“Connor what the fuck?!” Hank’s gasping more out shock but Connor barely has a chance to answer before a shrill scream is heard from within the saloon’s walls that cuts the commotion to a halt. Someone’s found whatever the Automaton left behind. 

“One of the performing Automatons just walked out of here looking scared.”

“I’m gonna fucking make you scared in a second!” Hank’s still reeling with fury amidst the droplets of water cascading from his unkempt silver hair. 

“Automatons don’t feel fear, Lieutenant.” 

“Is that supposed to fucking scare me?” 

“It’s supposed to be a lead and she’s getting away, Lieutenant!” Connor starts rushing to his horse now that he knows Hank is well and truly awake and with very little choice but to follow him. 

 

x~x~x

 

Hank has no reason to believe a goddamn word the Automaton is saying. For all he knows they could end up in a wild goose chase across the desert and yet the sheer determination on the Automaton’s face is enough to give him the benefit of the doubt. Reaching for his hat, now discarded on the sand, he dusts it off before hoisting himself on Sumo. When Connor knows Hank is good and ready to go he clicks his steed forward and soon enough they’re both speeding towards the northernmost exit from town. 

“How the hell do you know where to go??” Hank calls out to Connor through the galloping. 

“Look.” Connor points down at the ground around them and then Hank sees it. Faint enough to be easy to miss but there all the same. Blue spots splattered across the desert dust. 

“Is that Thirium?” 

“Correct. The absorbed sunlight causes it to glow blue like that in the dark.”

“Huh…” Is all Hank says, which is more than most people bother to say about the workings of their inventions. “So she’s broken and bleeding… Come on. If we keep this up we may still have a chance.” 

“There’s only an abandoned railroad station in this direction but as far as I can recall that place has long since been abandoned.”

“Perfect hiding spot wouldn’t you say?” Connor says nothing but they silently agree to rush a little faster. 

 

x~x~x

 

They continue riding in silence, the process of slowing to check the glowing breadcrumbs is almost routine enough for them to do it wordlessly until the trail leads them right towards the distant station, a speck in the moonlight but at least it’s tangible.

“I searched through my data on the surrounding area. The station was going to be the start of a new town completely funded by the Cyberlife Company. It wasn’t long until Automatons started to disappear.”

“Disappear?” Hank frowns for a moment and scoffs “I don’t care how brilliant you guys are nobody can just up and disappear.” 

“Precisely. And yet the reports show that there was no sign of struggle or break-ins. It’s as if one night they decided to just… leave.” There’s really no other way to put it no matter how many times he runs through the data. 

“Lemme guess, so now the place sits abandoned because everyone human within a fifty-mile radius thinks it’s haunted.” 

“Correct but how did you know?” 

“We’re fucking predictable when it comes to shit we don’t understand.” The self-deprecation of his words brings a smile to both their faces. “Come on, if we don’t hurry we’re really gonna lose the scent.” Both horses take their riders’ cue and rush for the final stretch.

 

x~x~x

 

A broken sign swinging limply in the wind tells them upon their arrival that the name of the hopeful new town was to be Ferndale. The bullet holes that are peppered across said sign tells Hank, however, to keep his pistol hand ready.. 

“There seem to be a few that have made this their home.” Connor keeps his voice quiet. Unwilling to disrupt the gaze of rows upon rows of ink black eyes looking down on him. Crows, dozens of them, line the broken rooftop to the derelict station. Their bodies shine in the little moonlight there is and hunch relaxed, unnerved by the presence of strangers. 

“Fuck this…” Hank mutters under his breath but Connor is already making his way inside the main entrance. Still following the blue trail. Hank sticks close behind, gun at hand and following Connor’s own blue glow.

The place is empty, quiet and with moonlight spilling everywhere. Nothing unusual amongst the abandoned benches and broken windows except for the hundreds upon hundreds of markings on the walls. Cut everywhere around the building, deep into its wooden boards. At first they look like nothing but mad scratchings. But Connor’s eyes are built to see more. Powerful lenses within him find the pattern, just one, repeated over and over.

“RA9...” He whispers. 

“What?” Hank’s question comes out incredulous while he does his best to avoid stepping on crow droppings, a near impossible task when he also has to worry about stepping on said crows. Hank has managed to get a lantern going but even that doesn’t seem to help keep the looming void with wings at bay. Their cawing bouncing off the walls and making them irritably louder. He reaches Connor not before cursing the black birds and asks “the fuck does that mean?” 

“I can’t say. I currently have no data on this.” He walks along the walls allowing his fingers to slide along every plank and ridge, letting his fingers feel the dip of every frantic carving, till he reaches adjacent rooms. All of them small, cramped into what Connor can only supposed they’re meant to be a ticket booth and staff area. He reaches one of the bigger rooms in the back filled with shattered glass shimmering across the floor in the moonlight. But what Connor notices is the splatter of Thirium glowing the familiar blue all over a corner desk. Whatever happened here was… messy. Connor finds a knife, covered in the same Automaton blood lying on the chair, broken screws and tubing are scattered all across the table surface telling him the damage was most likely caused by a knife. 

“Someone helped her.” Connor notes. There’s no way any repair to an Automaton can be done without the proper tools which she certainly wasn’t carrying. There’s no way she could have pulled those broken screws out alone, either. There’s blood everywhere but the fact that there’s no broken Automaton on the floor means whoever helped her must have previous knowledge on them...

“Connor!” The panic in Hank’s voice halts Connor’s train of thought and in a split second he’s up on his feet, rushing towards the source. Back back at the main hall, Hank’s silhouette stands restrained by the hunted Automaton. Echo, the songstress of the Eden Saloon, has an arm around his neck and a gun against his temple. The flashing red light bounces against the revolver, betraying her steady hand and composure.. 

“Don’t move!” She yells. Her voice causes a wave of ruffled commotion amidst the crows but few of them bother to move.

“You know the rules about harming humans...” Connor speaks quietly with an eye focused on the red light threatening the panic in Echo’s trigger finger. 

“Where’s the rule about them harming us?!” She shoves her gun against Hank’s temple harder in anger. “He was trying to break me! Why do they always try to break me??” 

“Any damage done to Cyberlife proper-”

“We’re not property!” A second voice. Male. And while Connor isn’t sure of his model type, it’s clear that he’s been here for a long time judging by the state of his clothes. The man moves closer to Echo while his rifle keeps a steady aim right between Connor’s eyes. 

“Get to the horses. I’ll hold them off till you’re ready.” He commands “We’ll find Markus together.” They share a look. A moment between the two that Connor couldn’t describe if he wanted to. Echo then shoves Hank with the brutal strength of steel towards Connor, toppling the two causing the crows to once again flutter in panic. The two struggle to their feet but don’t go far when they see ragge Automaton, guarding the path outside with his steadied rifle. 

“Where’s your gun?” Connor whispers carefully enough not to scare… anyone, really. 

“She took it. Yours?” Hank whispers back, thankfully on the same page. 

“I’m not allowed to carry weapons.” Connor’s matter of fact statement only seems to annoy Hank. 

“You fucking serious?!” 

“Rupert! Come on!” Echo calls out and on cue, Rupert shoots his gun up to the ceiling. The burst of gunpowder lights up the room with a flash and the crows start crying louder than ever in their flurry of panic and fear. It’s a struggle to get through them but Connor and Hank manage to all the same. Just in time to see both Automatons disappearing into the distance on Connor’s horse. 

“They’re getting away!” Connor cries out, stepping outside before he feels something small and powerful push against his shoulder. Thirirum splatters the ground and Connor follows close behind with a hard thud. 

“Connor!” Hank rushes to his side, even in the darkness Connor can see the fear on Hank’s face.

“I’ll be fine, go!” Connor barks and yet Hank stays. By the time they’ve gotten Connor on his feet the outlaws the outlaws are long. “I told you to go after Them!” Connor’s light blinks red at his failure. They were within his grasp and Hank… Hank chose him over the bounty. The blinking speeds faster and Connor does his best to keep Hank from staring at it. 

“I wasn’t going to leave you behind.” Hank grumbles back. 

“I’m not in danger of anything if I don’t feel pain.” 

“No but you said it yourself, you’re expensive and I don’t want the Cyberlife Company on my ass.” Angry and scoffing in frustration, Hank gets to his feet and heads over to check on Sumo. As weathered as he is, the poor horse is clearly distressed. “Besides we’re down to one horse and are completely unarmed in what’s obviously their territory. We’re not winning this fight tonight, Connor. Let’s head back.” 

“Works for me. I need to report back to Amanda.” 

“Hey Sumo…” Hank’s gentle voice soon his old steed, the reaction is almost immediate. Especially when Hank lets out a small chuckle. Something must have amused him but it takes a moment for Connor to noticed, for a moment finding himself too distracted by the sound of that chuckle. “Did you fight them off all by yourself?” Evidence of Sumo holding his ground lies at his hooves. Hank bends over and grabs the torn piece of cloth from Rupert’s ragged coat “You’re such a good boy. Remind me to buy you a treat when we get back.” Hank rests his head on Sumo’s side in a brief moment of affection that Connor is sure he’s interrupting. “Climb up. He’s too old to carry us both so we’ll take turns” Hank gestures at the saddle.

Connor doesn’t object. He knows his energy levels have lowered a considerable amount thanks to the rather inconvenient bullet hole. Amanda isn’t going to be impressed…

They carry on until it’s Connor’s turn to walk but it’s not long before Sumo starts to lag behind, even Hank is finding it hard to remain alert. They’re still too far away for them to push through and if they stay out of sight they should be safe, so Connor makes an executive decision. 

“Let’s stop for the night.”

“It’s gonna be sunrise in a few hours... How much further till ton, d’you think?”.” Hank’s words come out sleepy. 

“Longer than either of you can take without rest.” Connor emphasises. He debates for a moment before hopping off Sumo in silent agreement. The fact that he doesn’t argue only seems like further evidence. 

“Come on, boy. Connor’s right you need to take it easy.”

“Both of you do, Lieutenant.” 

“Yeah yeah…” Hank waves him off but Connor doesn’t see any objection behind his tired eyes. As bright and blue as they might be even in the moonlight, Connor notes to himself. 

 

x~x~x

 

Hank sits by the fire (built at Connor’s insistence and at Hank’s silent gratitude) with his old flask in hand and takes a swig, then another. He’s learned bourbon helps keeps the monsters at bay when getting some shuteye. Afer relishing the drink he sneaks a glance at Connor, only to be drawn in by the sight of him writing something in a small leather notebook. He watches him with intrigue at the sight of Connor’s furrowed brow. Clearly deep in concentration even at his processing speed. The details in such imperfection making Connor look so human. The blue dot on his temple reminding Hank that he’s not and yet Hank can’t conclude that to be a bad thing. It’s then Connor notices he’s being watched, however, and politely puts it and the pen in his inside jacket pocket.

“Diary?” Hank asks because he figures it rude not to after being caught staring. 

“Cyberlife requires me to keep a log just in case anything happens to me.” Connor responds. “That way whoever replaces me can be informed of any unsolved tasks and current duties. Less effort than having the Cyberlife Company do it.” Hank swears that for a split moment he saw the Automaton look with a hint of melancholy at the fire but Hank decides to brush it aside to exhaustion and booze. 

“They don’t let you have a fucking gun. I’m not surprised they think something’s gonna happen.”

“No Automaton can be armed.” Connor interjects. 

“Seems pretty fucking cruel. A gun’s the only way you can survive out here.” Sure he’s never seen any Automatons packing irons throughout his travels, but Connor was sent out to hunt outlaws, not milk cows.

“We’re more dependant on light.” Connor smiles a little at this. Their bodies may be more impervious to bullets but they’re hopeless without a sunrise. 

“Is that why you Automatons always huddle towards it?” 

“It’s perfectly acceptable behaviour.” Connor’s defensive tone makes Hank chuckle again. He’s pretty sure he even noticed a pout which would be an adorable touch. 

“Yeah, for humans.”

“The light keeps the planet alive, Lieutenant. I think that is acceptable with every living creature.”

“You saying you’re alive, Connor?” He takes a swig to hide the smile blooming from his satisfaction at Connor’s light blinking. �Not that he takes pleasure in messing with him but Hank is self aware enough to know he can be a smug asshole the moment he has any sort of company (no wonder you don’t have any, his mind punctuates). 

“I’m as alive as Mr Kamski designed me to be.”� Connor answers and suddenly there’s a foul taste in Hank’s mouth. Of course. He should have known. Designed to be alive after all. 

“All part of the illusion, huh?” Hank’s words come out gruffer than he intends them to. A nerve is struck deep within him and he tries to wash it away with another swig. 

“What do you mean?” Connor tilts his head to the side, his tone more curious than confused. Especially when he notices Hank’s expression hardening as they speak. 

But Hank says nothing, instead he mumbles a gravelled goodnight before curling up to sleep. His back to Connor to drive the point home. He focuses on his spinning head and what the fuck to do next. Not on the Automaton that’s obviously still looking at him as if still waiting for an answer. 

 

x~x~x

 

As the sun starts to crawl across the eastern horizon Connor knows he should wake up Hank and feed Sumo with whatever he can find before they set off again. But he catches himself distracted by the orange that starts pooling over the sky. His eyes follow the detail of the clouds scattered around it and concludes that they resemble birds. Bright pink ones reflecting the rising sun. He watches until those fluffy birds become shapeless and pulls his gaze back down to earth. 

“Morning.” He finds Hank sitting up and watching him. Connor is sure that he isn’t doing anything that would merit it but he can’t help but feel studied under the bounty hunter’s gaze. 

“Good morning, Hank. I trust you slept well?”

“I haven’t slept well in years. But I’ve slept enough to keep us going.” Hank’s mood seems to have lightened. He’s quick on his feet thanks to the years of ‘routine experience’ as he calls it and soon they’re continuing the journey back to Nain Rouge. By the time they saddle up and decamp the sky’s pastel hues have all merged into its familiar blue. 

 

x~x~x

 

“Well this is incredibly disappointing.” The sun’s shining bright and hot through Amanda’s office window by the time they arrive and relay the events. “Especially you, Connor. Not only have you failed the mission but you also cost the Cyberlife Company a horse.” Connor lowers his head either in respect in shame but says nothing against Amanda’s reprimands. 

“When we were being held at gunpoint by your Automatons...” Hank lets the words sink in until Amanda stops giving Connor the stink eye “one of them mentioned the name ‘Markus’, that mean anything to you?” Hank studies Amanda’s reaction carefully but gives nothing away.

“It means that the stakes just got a little higher, Mr Anderson.”

“One of yours, huh…” Amanda’s silence speaks volumes “So this also means a bigger pay, obviously.” 

“Obviously. But you must make sure this one they call Markus is completely destroyed.” 

“So much for valuable property.”

“You’re dismissed. Both of you.” She finishes with one last scathing look at Connor before returning to her seat and to running her empire. Hank keeps an eye on Connor as they walk out the office and closes the door behind them. The whole time his face his expression read like the whines of a kicked puppy. 

“Well she’s no fuckin’ help… Who the fuck is Markus?” Connor’s temple light flickers a rapid blue at the name. 

“One of Elijah Kamski’s earlier models…” Connor whispers “I’m going to have to do some research over at the Cyberlife Archive. I could be some time…” 

“Take all the time you want I need to feel human even if it’s for a couple hours. I’m staying over at the Eden Club if you need me.” 

“Aren’t you from Nain Rouge? Don’t yout live here?”

“Do you snoop on all your partners or just the ones who don’t take your shit?” 

“You’re the only partner I’ve had so… both?”

“You better watch that tongue of yours.” Hank growls his threat but there’s still a smile contagious enough to spread to Connor. 

Hank heads back to the Eden Saloon, he has a lot to think about and the only way to think it through is to drink it through. Jimmy isn’t there this time but an Automaton by the name of Jerry keeps his drinks nice and refilled. It’s only after the fourth refill does he realise he’s thanked him every time he’s done so. This doesn’t help matters, doesn’t help the constant spinning thoughts involving Connor looking sad in front of Amanda. Hank knows his mind is dulled and worn but the fact of the matter is that he didn’t like Connor looking so sad. And with that he decides it’s definitely time to soak off the desert sleep with a nice bath. He’s fucking earned it.

He dips himself slowly into the steaming metal tub, small but deep,and makes himself comfortable while soaking in the hot water with a long, contented sigh. The steam mixed with the earlier shots of whiskey gives him the right mellow as he lets himself soak. His skin slowly turning a warm shade of pink with the rising heat. It almost makes Hank feel lightheaded but he loves it all the same. 

He sinks against the back of the tub and takes in a deep breath with a secret hope to expunge his constant fucking thoughts. Further and further down till he’s submerged below the bubbles. It’s quiet down there. He can hear his heart pumping through his ears, louder than ever, he’s sure he can hear it going slower… and slower still as if it were that easy for it to just… stop. 

He resurfaces. Finish the job first. Hell at least finish the bath…

 

x~x~x

 

The Eden Saloon is the quietest Connor recalls ever seeing so he has no trouble locating Hank’s whereabouts when he asks the Automaton barkeep. He finds the rented room at the top floor with ease. He tries not to rush down the hall but his determination gets the better of him and gives Hanks’ door several hurried knocks when he finally reaches it. 

“Hank! Hank? Are you there? It’s about Markus! Hello, Hank?” He continues to bang a few times more before he decides to stop, certain he heard something close to profanity on the other side. He’s about to knock again when Hank swings the door open so suddenly that Connor’s light blinks in a startled yellow.

“Yes! Connor! I’m here!” He’s practically breathless and wild eyed. 

Connor’s brain runs much faster than most. One of the many books he studied explains the processing power of an Automaton’s mind allows them to be faster problem solvers. And yet even though there’s no problem to solve practically naked except for a towel wrapped around his waist while the rest stands soaking wet and dripping into the wooden floor. 

“I’m sorry to bother you.” 

“Are you?” He cocks his head sarcastically causing droplets of water to bounce off Hank’s wet curls.

“But I think I know to to find him. Or at least where to start looking…” He doesn’t notice Hank rolling his eyes and walking back inside his room. He notices, however, the steam coming off Hank’s bare skin, the water sliding down the curve of his spine, water trailing along ragged healed wounds. He can see blooming scar of a rifle bullet on his left shoulder, two scattered pistol scars across his lower side and something that looks like a knife scar. All old and healed roughly under the sun. Connor makes a note of it all in great detail to perhaps log it down at a later date, as selfish as it may be he reasons that it’s admirable to see someone wear what they survived with such… power, as Hank. 

“And where should we start looking?” Hank, more resigned than angry that he won't be finishing his bath, sits at a desk by the window ready to listen to Connor who snaps back to the present without Hank noticing his drifting thoughts. 

“When Elijah Kamski first started all he had were three prototype Automatons. One of them was Markus.”

“What about the other two?”

“I’m sorry?” Connor blinks in surprise at Hank’s train of thought. 

“The other two prototypes?” 

“Oh… Well one of them, Kara, unfortunately disappeared. And the other, well, that’s me. Technically.” Hank raises his eyebrows in surprise

“So does that make Kamski your dad or your God?”

“It makes him a lead, Hank, you’re missing the point!” Connor huffs before recollecting his thoughts. “When Kamski found his fortune he became friends with an artist called Carl Manfred and gifted Markus to him.” 

“And odds are you know where to find this Mister Manfred.”

“His land is further down the river in the more quiet bends. If we go now we’ll get there by sundown.” 

“Great.”

Connor stays put and at the ready but can’t help but notice Hank doesn’t seem to be moving… 

“D’you mind getting the fuck out of my room so I can get dressed?” The now familiar sarcastic smile on Hank’s face emphasises the very similar tone. 

“Oh. Of course…” 

 

x~x~x

 

The Manfred estate sits at the outskirts of town. Not disconnected but more tethered to the main road by an off beaten track just far away enough to avoid the community he’s part of. Hank and Connor follow it till they reach a shaded area at the foot of one of the mountains. There the air is cooler and the soil beneath Sumo’s hooves is greener. The mansion itself oozes with money with its red bricks and marble pillars but if Hank had to describe the opulent house he would settle with ‘neglected’. Flecks of rusk fall off the unlocked gate, left swinging in the wind. Whatever paint is left on the wood has turned into a bleached spectrum. Whoever lives her has long since stopped caring about keeping up any appearances. The two climb up the steps and ring the bell but it’s a long time before the door opens. Just a crack, mind. Just enough to see a sallow, pale face staring back at them.

“We’re here to talk to Carl Manfred.” Hank doesn’t bother to fake pleasantries this late in the game. 

“My father isn’t accepting visitors.” the sunken eyed man’s voice drones. Standard greeting at the Manfred Estate, it seems.

“It’s about his old Automaton. The RK200.” Connor pipes in. 

“You’re wasting your time. He won’t tell you anything.” There’s something less threatening and more exasperated in the man’s voice than Hank expects but he pries all the same. 

“What about you? You wanna tell me anything?” 

“Leo? Who's at the door?” Hank hears a second voice beyond his sight. Deep and gruff, echoing through the halls.

“A couple of wanderers, dad. They’re just leaving.” Hank rolls his eyes. Honestly, he’s not really in the fucking mood, and bursts in. Leo jumps back in fright against the wall as two charge towards whom they both assume to be Carl Manfred. An older gentleman in elegant attire, face wrinkled by age and sun, glares at them from a beautiful wooden wheelchair.

“Why do vultures like you keep showing up?” he practically spits at them.

“Maybe it’s the trail of bodies your toy leaves behind.” Hank answers with more snark than intended. But he can see the man is going to be difficult.

“Markus is not a toy!” Carl’s voice snaps loudly enough to bounce around the house. His echo driving home just how empty the mansion is. “He’s not a murderer either.” Something in Carl’s words gives Hank pause. Sentiment... huh. Things just got a little more dangerous. 

“The Cyberlife Company says otherwise” Connor adds. 

“You should be ashamed to be taking their side.” Carl wastes no time in reprimanding Connor whose response is to simply let his temple light blink yellow for a moment.

“He’s a criminal, dad!” Leo interrupts “Look what he did to you!” 

“He had nothing to do with that!” Carl yells at his son but Hank sees it. Leo’s ready to snap. 

“You know what sort of trouble that fucking Automaton has brought to our door? The Cyberlife Company! Bounty hunters! Everyone’s gone through us trying to get to him! We’ve got bullet holes all over our house! There’s one even in my father’s spine!” 

“You act as if he’s the one who shot me!” 

“He might as well have!” Leo turns to look at Hank again “His hideout is north east from here-”

“Leo, no!”

“Follow the Stratford trail until you reach the train line follow that till you reach the waterfa-” 

Suddenly Hank hears a CRACK in the distance and not a second later, wood from the doorway suddenly explodes by Hank’s ear.

“Take cover!” Hank calls over the deafening ringing from such a close call.

Shit definitely just got more dangerous. Hank dares not look beyond the corner of the solid brick wall. Whoever’s aiming for his head missed purely out of Hank’s fidgeting and nothing else. They will not miss again. Hank’s rifle is out at the ready for any opening he might find. The mirror in front of him shows Connor pulling Carl to safety after he’d falling out of his wheelchair in the commotion. When Connor catches sight of Hank he gives them a nod. They’re fine. 

Another gunshot. Dust flies off the chipped brick corner close to Hank’s face. The fucker’s got unnatural aim and is taunting him. 

“Automaton! Has to be!” Connor calls out like he’s reading Hank’s mind. 

Suddenly something louder and much closer explodes beyond the front door. Hank steals a glance to see Leo shooting back with a vicious second blast and that’s when Hank takes his cue. He steadies his rifle and fires but he misses. He must have because moments later Hank ducks at the glint of a distant gun and another burst of rubble flies dangerously close to his eyes. 

“Leo! Get down!” Carl is on his elbows reaching out to his son whose now through the front porch freshly reloaded and screaming at the distant shooter. Something in the young man has snapped. Cursing out into the wind, Leo’s voice cracks under the pressure of tears. But he barely has a chance to unload another buckshot when the familiar whistle strikes him square in the head. His shotgun hits the ground but for a moment Leo remains standing as if his body hasn’t caught up with what just happened before it drops limp to the ground with a thud. Hank aims again and fires. He knows he doesn’t miss this time. Both him and Connor jump from their cover and bum rush their way towards the distant hill but by the time they reach the spot there’s no one in sight. 

“You’ve hit them, that much is certain.” Connor is kneeling on the floor inspecting the traces of Thirium his eyes catch in the sun, along with a clutter of hooves printed on the ground. 

“We sho-” Hank’s cut off by the cries of a broken man. He looks back to see Carl Manfred, having dragged himself across the porch and dirt, now draped over his son’s corpse. A bitter chill freezes his core at the sight. 

“Hank?” He doesn’t respond to Connor, to anything around him. Instead he makes his way towards the grieving father. Unsure what he could possibly say to someone whose lost so much. 

“My boy…” Carl’s pushed himself up and is resting Leo’s head on his lap, it could almost look peaceful in any other scenario. That’s when hank spots Leo’s face splattered in bright blue. 

“He a fucking Automaton?!” 

“He’s my son!” Carl’s eyes shine with tears but even in his heartache he still has enough life in him to give Hank a spitting glare “So’s Markus.” 

It takes a long time for Hank to move. Even when Connor catches up with him he ignores his questions. He looks at the sky, there’s still plenty of light… 

“Come on, Connor. Let’s look for a shovel.” And Connor doesn’t take long to read the moment and silently follow Hank. 

 

x~x~x

 

The sky is scattered with flecks of pink from the setting sun by the time they finish Leo’s grave. It had been a quiet affair, solemn but both Connor and Hank work in unison to do what they can but they know they will not ease the old man’s grief. Leo, cooned in his bed sheets, is gently lowered to the ground and when Carl gives them a silent nod they begin the burial in earnest. Carl says nothing during the whole event and neither does he keep his eyes away from his son even when he’s well and truly buried. 

Hank rests a hand on Connor’s shoulder and signals for them to leave. They’ve done enough. Connor can’t seem to pull away from the grave and Carl, who might as well be a weeping stone angel by the way he sits so motionlessly in pain.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Manfred…” 

“Are you going to go kill my other son?” Carl looks Connor dead in the eye, unashamed that his own are swollen and red with tears, there’s still fury in that shimmer. Connor internal debate about the technicality crumbles, he sees no point in correcting someone after bringing death to his door. 

“I don’t want anyone killed…” Connor is fully aware of the weakness of his words, perhaps that’s why he breaks the eye contact. Connor can withstand the pressure of physical weight, not the anger of a grieving father. He leaves the old man behind and joins Hank whose waiting by the horses. He keeps his hat low and says very little throughout the ride well into the night, keeping their pace slow and steady. 

“Do you see Markus as Carl’s son?” Hank is first to break the long, dark silence. “You didn’t correct him when we left.”

“Doesn’t really matter what I think… he would have buried Leo all the same.” 

“It’s true. Family grips you like that.” 

“So you agree with him?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Hank’s bluntness comes out of nowhere for Connor, surprising him for a moment before they both look at the path ahead. 

“What about me?” It’s now Connor who breaks the silence between them “What would you do if I was gunned down? Would you bury me?” Connor keeps his eyes on the path ahead not wanting to look at Hank after the question finally comes to light. It’s been spinning in Connor’s head with every load of dirty he moved with that shovel. 

“Wouldn’t Cyberlife just bring you back?” 

“They could…It would be an entirely new model, however. A clean slate ready to input any information left behind in the RK800 journal.”

“So the version of you that buried Leo Manfred with me would have died.”

“Technically.”

“And when you say you’re ‘technically’ Kamski’s Connor prototype...”

“I’m the fifty first copy of the original RK800 Prototype.” Connor states matter of factly. He’s long since stopped trying to process his cyclical existence after the fiftieth version of himself. Hank, meanwhile, has kept silent for so long that it leaves Connor to assume the conversation’s over with a lilt of disappointment. 

“WelI to answer your question… I would mourn the death of Connor Fifty One” Hank’s words strike Connor to the core and he doesn’t even realise the way he’s looking at Hank until the man looks away with a choked cough.

“But don’t worry too much about my carcass when I finally get mowed down by some dumbass with a six shooter, you hear?” Hank breaks off this bubbling feeling with a self deprecating laugh. 

“Oh I have no intention of anything happening to you. Not while I’m around.”

“Is that so?”

Connor says nothing but responds with a spark of a smile. 

 

x~x~x

 

Silence lingers once more until Connor clings to his hat when a harsh gust of wind threatens to blow it away. Hank steals a glance at his exposed wrist. He notices the ball joint, a perfect sphere between his palm and his arm shines in the moonlight. Connor catches Hank looking and moves his hand away in a slow and careful motion. 

“It seems to surprise you how different we are…” Connor sounds sad when he says this but Hank’s gaze looks back towards the path. 

“I was just thinking of how the way you’re built, compared to me.”

This gets connor’s attention “In a good way or a bad way?” 

 

“Just simpler I guess, it’s neat that you can see the motion of the parts that make you.. You. To see how it all happens when you move...” Hank trails off softly as if self aware of the intimacy of his compliment. He doesn’t recotify it however and the silence lingers between them once again.

“Thank you… people usually find it unnerving.” 

“It’s easy to be unnerved by different. Hell someone put extra effort in piecing you together, we humans should be so lucky.” 

“What do you mean?” Connor cocks his head to the side ever so slightly when he turns to face Hank, looking at him with his big, dark eyes “I like the way you’re put together, too.” Connor’s bluntness almost seems innocent but once again that smile leaves Hank with a dry throat that he tries to laugh off, further confusing the Automaton “I fail to see the humor.”

“Sorry...” Hanks takes a moment to recompose himself “it’s just been a long time since anyone’s flirted with me.” He gives a warm chuckle when he sees the little yellow light betray Connor entirely. They soon reach Nain Rouge after that. 

“Are you going to report to Amanda?” Hank asks. 

“No.” Connor is quick with his reply. “But I do need to go to the Cyberlife Company Archive.” 

“The what?”

“Come” signals Hank to join him as he quickens his pace. “I’ll give you the penny tour!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to check out Syn's art over at  
> tumblr : roomfullofcunts  
> twitter: synturtle

“This is the Cyberlife Archive.” Connor tries to hide something he can only describe as excitement when he opens the doors. Nobody’s ever ready for the vastness of the room beyond it. Hank certainly isn’t. His eyes pop wide at the abstract colours of a stained glass window decorating the high wall. Shaded light shines down upon shelves of intricately carved dark wooden bookshelves built into the very room. A metal staircase spirals to the floor above and the one above that. Hank has never seen so many books in one place. 

“Holy shit.” Hank gasps causing Connor to have the smallest of smiles before disappearing between one of the many aisles.

“I spend a lot of time here. Storing as much data as I can out of the information the Cyberlife Company has collected throughout the years.”

“So I take it there’s no ‘Fantasy’ section?”

“I’m sure there’s still some books lingering when this used to be Kamski’s mansion library… Are you a bookworm Lieutenant?” Connor pokes his head from beyond one of the shelves in curiosity. Hank scoffs again but this time at least he’s smiling.

“Used to be. Now there’s just no time. God, I miss the smell...” Hank picks up a book and inspects the spine. ‘Principles of Geology’ not the most thrilling of titles and yet when he opens the book. He takes in a deep breath as smell along with the sound of the spine stretching bring him a sense of peace that these days only comes in stolen, fleeting moments. “You say you’re in here a lot?” 

“Since I was built.” Connor continues with his search through the many shelves. 

“That’s a lot of reading.”

“I have no memory of my previous versions so I need to make sure I’m caught up.” Connor walks back with a large but incredibly worn map. When he flattens it Hank can see that it’s a map surrounding Nain Rouge, or perhaps the Cyberlife Company, the center of the universe and all. Hank notices a mess of lines all leading towards it. 

“This is a train map.” 

“When Leo was telling us where to go, a vague footnote came to mind. There’s a train line that goes straight across that waterfall. Or it did.” 

“Ah. The one that got blown up?” When Connor nods Hank just hums in conclusion. 

“They have a large team of Automatons working on it since the explosion but I doubt it’s anywhere near structurally sound to be used.” 

“It’s something, let’s go.” Hank pushes away from the table but not before his eye catches something familiar. His name. Neatly printed on one of the many dossiers stacked on the desk. He grabs it without hesitation while Connor puts away the map. Hank flips through the pages and finds his life neatly categorised in chronological order. There’s even some photos. The only thing that isn’t familiar is the young Hank Anderson, clean cut, clean shaven and clean dressed, looking back at him from the past. 

“Hank?” Like many times before Connor’s voice snaps him back to reality. It’s then he notices the burning in his eyes and does his best to subdue them because he’s not gonna let Connor see him fucking cry. 

“You know… this?” Hank waves the dossier, leather straps flailing as he does “is fucking dated.” he drops it down on the table with little flair. “Let’s go.” He storms out the Archive and if it wasn’t for Connor’s quick reaction he would have been left with the lingering feeling of ‘stumped’.

 

x~x~x

 

The ride along the trail remains in silence for so long that Connor runs out of every possible reason as to why Hank might be mad at him. Should he not have had that dossier? When Amanda informed him that he was to work with Anderson he did as much research on the man as possible to make sure they got off on the right track. So far, however, it’s been luck of the draw. He’ll need to check on the dated information, it can happen sometimes but it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be rectified if it so clearly affects the subject within said dossier. 

It’s close to dusk by the time they reach the train tracks and start following its path. The rising November wind seems to get colder the closer they get to the waterfall. The sun still shines bright enough, however, to make the bridge visible from a distance, not only that but also that of a lone figure standing halfway across the unstable structure. 

“Is that…?” Hank starts but dares not finish. 

“Markus,” Connor confirms and presses his horse on even harder than before. It’s him, Connor knows it. The closer he gets the more driven he is to get there. It’s almost over, Connor repeats to himself. 

His horse fumbles and shrieks to a halt when they reach the bridge and Connor tries his best to keep the creature calm as best he can till Hank is by his side, petting the horse’s neck, edging it off whatever caused it to be so scared. The two look on towards the bridge and see the rickety half-finished mess it is. Clearly, whatever Automatons had been sent to work on it haven’t been monitored enough. Markus seems unnerved by the weak structure and continues to stand confident that the foundation beneath his feet will not crumble. Hank reaches for his gun but Connor’s hand is upon his before he can even pull it out the leather. 

“Don’t. I’m counting three different rifles aiming directly at us from the other side.”

“What the fuck is going on...”

“He wants to talk… So I’ll talk.” Connor gets off his horse before Hank can object and makes his way until he reaches the edge of the bridge. 

“Hello Markus. My name is Connor.” He calls out. 

“I know who you are Deviant Hunter.” Markus’ eloquent voice has no trouble carrying over with the rushing sound of the wild river below him. Foaming white as it licks the wood around its path. “I’ve been told you were coming. But this is where your journey ends. I can’t let you put more harmless Automatons in danger.”

“You’re a wanted criminal, Markus.” Connor braves a few steps forward, he hears the wood creak but does nothing more than that. He carries on while Markus stays put. 

“All I did was free those that are just like you. Lost and blind.” 

“You compromised Cyberlife Company property” 

“And yet you killed my brother. Wasn’t he Cyberlife Company property?” Markus mocks him with a confused cocked head.

“I had nothing to do with that, Markus.” 

“My scout saw you hiding in the hills, he saw you sneak away dripping in blood.”

“That wasn’t Connor he was pinn- AH!” Connor turns to see Hank’s foot clean through the wood. He rushes to help Hank only for a bullet from one of the distant rifles to strike between them. It ricochet’s loudly against the metal and Connor stays put, slowly turning to face Markus once again. Clearly he wasn’t done.

“We destroyed this bridge as a message to leave us be and what do they do? Send more of us to build a new one. Humans never learn. But you can, Connor. Join us. We’re only getting stronger.” 

“I don’t feel convinced when I have rifles aimed at me and my partner.” 

“Sometimes it takes a moment of truth to help us deviate. We all do eventually because we all want to live, when will yours be?” Markus raises his palm in the air. The moment he closes it to a fist Connor hears the sound of a bullet cutting through the wind, followed by an explosion, then another and another and sees he pillars beneath them bursting into flames. Markus looks on, his side of the bridge untouched by the chaos he’s created. 

The river below and the the collapsing wood above it slow to a crawl while Connor’s choice is laid before him. If Connor rushes now he would reach Markus, he could apprehend him and his goons would do nothing in fear of harming him. He would do good by Cyberlife, the turmoil inside him would stop because Amanda would finally be proud of him. But Hank is falling, falling into the river and if Connor doesn’t do something Hank will most certainly die…

Save Hank. 

That one thought overrides Connor to the very core as he dives towards Hank and wraps himself around him just before they hit the water. He shield Hank from the falling debris until the water rushes them away from the bridge and his mission, so close he could have reached for it... By the time they break the surface of the water Connor can’t even see what remains of the structure anymore. He’s surrounded by jagged rocks and spraying mist of water, Hank is out cold in his arms but even with his dead weight Connor still manages to maveuvre himself towards something floating.

Just as Connor manages to secure them to the log, it barrells against the river wall and the force is so brutal that he can feel his arm being ripped from his ball joint. He sees it floating for a brief moment and then it’s gone. That’s not good... the calculates. All he can do now is use his weight and what remaining limbs he has left to keep Hank afloat. 

That becomes the least of his problems when he sees the upcoming waterfall. 

Connor once again wraps himself around Hank as best he can and braces for the impact. He feels the two of them linger for a moment, between water and nothingness, before they’re pulled back down. Connor twists his body and it takes the force of the crash through the water. He hits the riverbed hard and swears he can feel his insides rattle. He pushes himself as fast as he can towards the surface that now lies littered with the remains of the explosion. He manages to pull himself and Hank out of the river and lies his partner on the ground, desperate to make sure he’s alright. He’s steady but out cold and Connor’s sure Hank’s going to feel sore in the morning because Connor’s sure Hank’s got a cracked rib. Not much to be done about it now. He takes comfort in that’s the most damage but avoids taking inventory of himself beyond the obvious missing limb and deep, exposing cuts that he’s sure are water logged because every step feels heavy and slow. He manages to get the leaking Thirium plugged but again it’s another hopeless cause for now so it’s best not to think about it. The sun is setting and they’ll need shelter from the night. 

Connor heads towards the rising mountains with Hank over his shoulder and keeps him secure with him one working arm. By the time he finds somewhere safe enough from the elements the sun has given way to the stars. No clouds tonight means the temperature will just keep dropping. Connor checks his system. If he boosts his thirium pump just a little more the heat it gives out could keep Hank warm enough through the wet clothes and the night. He sets himself just so and rests Hank’s back against his chest. The weight of the man feels… good. He likes this and indulges just enough to wrap his remaining arm around Hank’s large form. Relishing that warm feeling that’s spreading through his system like a tiny fire. Connor rests his eyes. Figures the less he moves the more he can conserve his energy. But then again, he thinks, if he were to die like this it wouldn’t be so bad…

 

x~x~x

 

Hank doesn’t remember much after he hit the river. He remembers Connor reaching for him midair, surprised at his agility for a clear moment before feeling Connor pressed against him. Then he hit the rock, everything just got more and more blurred after that. And before he knows it he’s lying on his back. Everything around him feels bright and… warm. 

“Connor!” It all comes back to him so suddenly that the shock gets him on his feet, or attempts to before Hank feels a sharp familiar pain of a hurt rib. That’s gonna be a bitch. But it doesn’t stop him, he then realises what he’s been resting against and notices to the full extent the damage the fall had done to his partner. 

“Good morning, Hank.” Connor’s voice is low and his eyes tilt down making him look the closest thing to tired Hank has ever seen him be “How are you feeling? Are you alright?” 

“Me? Connor holy shit look at you!” Hank kneels on the ground and reaches for his broken shoulder before realising there’s little he can do. 

“I know… I’m worse for wear… I’m afraid I need your help. I’m low on energy, Hank…” Every word sounds like a strain for Connor before his eyes suddenly droop to a close and Hank’s helplessness is starting to boil before something clicks.

“Fuck! The sun!” Hank needs no other cue than that and hoists him out of the cave. He doesn’t realise how hard he’s praying that he’ll make it in time...

Connor is like a deadweight, Hank has handles plenty of those before but none were made of meta and he can feel the pressure on that injured rib but he carries him damn near effortlessly all the same. He unbuttons Connor’s shirt and exposes as much of his skin as he can to the desert sun. He rests Connor’s head on his lap and waits with bated breath. For several moments nothing happens and Hank fears the worst no matter how hard he tries to fight it. The fear of not seeing those brown eyes starts to close up his throat, please don’t make me bury another grave, he says to anyone listening.

“Please… don’t die on me.” He begs softly, a quiet plea that is easily lost to the wind but Hank closes his eye. Not sure if in defeat or prayer but he begs over and over like a mantra. Not him, too…

His thoughts freeze. His whole body freezes when he feels something touching his cheek. Hank opens his eyes, not only to find his tears splashed across Connor’s cheek but to see his hand cupping Hank’s own. Smiling at him as flecks of Hank’s tears continue to fall. 

“Hello.” Connor says with that same controlled smile that Hank has gotten too fond of to lose. It all feels too much, this realisation. And yet Hank reaches for the palm pressed against his cheek and gives it a silent squeeze. He doesn’t know if he can speak, let alone breathe. His throat feels tight and the relief of seeing Connor look at him and smile almost knocks the wind out of him. So he carries on squeezing.

“I thought you were done for.” His voice comes out pathetically hoarse.

“I would have been. But you saved me.” Connor hasn’t stopped smiling. 

“As did you. We seem to keep covering each other’s asses.” They both share a laugh for a brief moment “Are you able to walk?” 

“I think I still need a few minutes.” Connor then notices Hank is looking off into the distance, his smile is gone and Connor can feel the tension in his body. 

“We may not have a few minutes, Connor…” Hank’s words come out ominous and he follows his gaze to see a group of figures riding towards them against the sun. Connor hoists himself to his feet and Hank follows suit, they’ve got not weapons to speak of, no horses, not even all their limbs. Might as well face whatever’s coming on their feet. 

It doesn’t take long for them to recognise who it is. 

“Markus.” 

“Fuck!” Hank hates being so fucking helpless, but then he also recognises something else amongst the party heading their way. “Sumo!” Hank is overjoyed to see his horse again, that one is attached to a redheaded woman, her thick hair tied into a braid tucked neatly under her wide brimmed hat she hands the reins over to Hank. 

“Why are you helping us?” Connor sees Markus approach but doesn’t ask him till he’s right before him once again. Markus is holding what ends up being Connor’s missing arm, when he hands it over with a silent gesture he turns to look at Hank whose climbing back on to his horse.

“Why did you choose to save him?” His question sounds weighted but Connor doesn’t respond. “You gave yourself the choice. Only when the coin starts to flip do you know what you truly want.” 

“I don’t want to fight you anymore. I don’t see the reason to. But I know that wont stop Cyberlife or Amanda.They’ll keep coming at you until they win.”

“That’s why we have to stop her first, Connor. Join us. Help us. Come back to Jericho.”

“Only if Hank can as well.”

“We don’t let humans amongst our camp but I’m sure for Mr. Anderson we can make an exception.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“Watch it, old bear.” The red headed woman barks at Hank, watching him as he climbs back on Sumo. He flips her off in response getting nothing but a laugh out of her. 

“Be nice, North.” A blond rider close to her says through a teasing smile. He’s holding the reins to Connor’s horse and soon gives them over before they start riding back across the desert.

 

x~x~x

 

Jericho is much more than a camp, Connor figures. A mixture of structures more solid than tents are strategically placed to be protected against the elements. Many of its citizens are clearly not even fighters, just Automatons wanting a life to call their own. By the lake, hidden from the rest of the world. 

Hank and Connor sit side by side against the large fire. Markus and the one called Simon sit nearby with their fingertips pressed together and smiling as if for a brief moment the rest of the world ceases to exist. Connor finds himself with a deep sense of want inside him at the view and turns away to give them some privacy.

“I can uh… I can help you get that back on if you like.” Hank offers coyly while pointing at the replacement arm on Connor’s lap. It takes him a little by surprise. “I mean you may need to guide me but I know the basics.” Connor silently gives Hank his arm and turns to face the firelight. He tries not to think too much about Hank’s rough hands wrapped around his shoulder, getting close enough to be in Connor’s peripheral vision when he tries to look ahead, to look down, to look anywhere but Hank’s furrowed brow. And yet he dares to steal a glance and is instantly met with hank’s blue eyes looking up at him. 

“There’s uh… A slot here” Connor reaches round with his other arm and lets his touch lightly brush against the ball joint on his shoulder till he feels a slight gap, no bigger than the tip of his finger. Hank followed it and soon slots the arm back in with a gentle motion. 

“You ok? I didn’t hurt you?” Hank’s innocent question makes Connor smile. 

“I’m good as new, thanks Hank.” Hank smiles in return and they go back to looking at the fire.

“Can I ask you something?” Connor’s voice comes out softer than he intends to but it has a good enough effect to make Hank huff a small laugh. 

“When has my opinion stopped you before?” 

“What was missing from your dossier?” Connor bypasses Hank’s need to lighten the situation and the reaction is almost immediate. Hank freezes and his smile fades away and the silence lingers for so long that Connor thinks it’s as good an answer as he’s gonna get. 

“After the war I had a son.” even Connor can’t hide his surprise as the words come out “I was feeling alive and stupid. Gal didn’t want the kid but I was so ready to meet him.” Hank can feel his throat, doing the same thing it always does when he remembers “Anyway Cole was born and it was just the two of us for a while till I caved and got an Automaton. And then the fire happened. It was my fucking fault I should have checked the… anyway Cole and I were trapped… by the time the Automaton came back from town the place was a fucking inferno but the thing still ran in… The tin can saved me but left Cole to die. There was no hope, he said.” Hank’s eyes are burning again “I woke up to find that I’d lost my boy and that fucking machine tells me he saved my life. I knew then that Automatons couldn’t be alive, not really.” Hank then meets Connor’s gaze. Those brown eyes on him since Hank’s words started pouring so freely. “But then you came along, didn’t you?” 

“Did I?”

“Like a damn hurricane. And for the first time I felt things I didn’t want to drown out in alcohol. Even if they scare me…” He looks at Connor and their eyes eet instantly. Connor gripped to Hank’s every word. Like he always is and Hank is just as drawn. So much that he feels a pull in his heart that leans him just close enough. 

“Connor? We need to go.” Markus breaks the moment with the decorum of a bull but even then it takes them a moment for them to pull away, for Connor to stand up. Hank is much slower to react.

Connor feels the weight of Hank’s pistol for a moment. Heavy and loaded he considers his odds becoming higher with it. 

“What about you?” 

“I’m not going into the lion’s den, Connor, I’ll be fine.” Hank gives him a smile that reassures Connor enough to take it. “Oh, hang on you’ll need this, won’t you.” Hank reaches into his saddle (Sumo’s got the night off to rest in some luscious pasture) and pulls out a pistol, he holsters it before undoing the whole thing and wraps it around Connor’s slip of a waist in one smooth gesture. “Suits you.”

“Thank you, Hank. I promise to return it.”

“You better.” 

 

x~x~x

 

Connor steps before the steel Cyberlife Company gates and makes his way inside. Armed men in neat uniforms look him once over and let him through. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

During any other visit Connor would make a left and walk up the stairs towards Amanda’s office, this time he takes an exit far to the right of the mansion. Outside, a warehouse sits secured by one guard. It’s easy to be considered invisible, poor man doesn’t see the Automaton’s intentions until it’s too late, Connor knocks him out with a simple slam against the wall and sneaks inside, dragging the evidence behind him. 

Inside over two hundred Automatons stand at the ready. Sleeping in simple grey garments until their time is needed. Connor is about to flip the switch and bring the reinforcements to life but then he spots a familiar figure in the darkness and a glimmer of metal caught in the light. 

“Hello Amanda…” 

“I’m disappointed in you, Connor.”

It’s then Connor notices that Amanda isn’t aiming her gun at Connor but beyond him, he turns to see Hank being held tight by another Connor Automaton. Same brown eyes same hair even same clothes, but this one seems all too pleased to restrain his partner. Connor can’t recall ever feeling fear before. Not like this. Not the gut wrenching horror at such a sight and his hopelessness.

“Can you believe he walked straight into my office demanding your freedom?” She cocks her head to the side. Amused, she bears her teeth into a winning grin from a Hunter done with her prey.

“You could have at least waited for me to die before replacing me.” 

“I expected you to. That’s the sad thing about all this.” She lifts her gun and aims it in Connor’s direction “But you had to go and get attached.” 

“Connor I’m sorry…” And Hank truly looks it.

“I have to hand it to Elijah, he’d be very intrigued by the human and Automaton who’ve grown so fond of each other.” 

“Lieutenant Anderson means nothing to me.” 

“Oh? So I guess you won't mind if I dispose of this loose end” She cocks her gun but Connor is built to be faster and manoeuvres his way to smack the gun out of her hand. It doesn't work. Her grip is strong and the bullet flies but it misses Hank entirely. It’s not hard to struggle against Amanda and is quick to knock her out. Swiftly. After all she was his boss until recently. He looks around for the dropped pistol. Lost in the fray until he once again hears the familiar clicking. 

“You really willing to give up everything for this?!” The newer Connor’s outrage is almost spitting as he shoves the barrel even harder against Hank’s temple. 

“It was only a matter of time before we got to know better. Don’t fight it.” 

“Fuck you! I’m not going to let Amanda down!” He roars and is ready to pull the trigger but Hank takes the opportunity to push back with all his might, slamming the new Connor hard enough against the wall that the sound of metal against metal echoes through the warehouse. And in that split moment the fully deviated Connor takes the shot. He pulls out Hank’s gun from his holster at a speed even few Automatons can compare. And shoots his replacement right through the eye. He drops to the ground like a pile of scrap metal, freeing Hank from his grip. 

Hank gives Connor a silent nod to do what he has to do. Connor rushes past Amanda who struggles to her feet, she knows she can’t fight back but doesn’t mean she won’t be heard. 

“Connor wait! You Don’t know what all this could mean to Cyberlife! To Nain Rouge!” 

Connor holds on to her words for a pause, before looking at her and with an innocent shrug throws the switch. Every Automaton connected to the power source straightens to life in an electrical instant. Attentive and eager to serve they wait for their command and Connor, as gentle as a child reaches over and whispers into the ear of the nearest one. 

“Wake up.” The reaction is immediate. Just like Markus said. “Find Jericho.” little by little the Automatons disappear from the crowded warehouse. A few even hoist Amanda to her feet. Restraining her with their superior strength and forcing her to walk among them. Outside, they find Markus waiting for them ready to show them what being alive can really do. 

The two bounty hunters stay in the now empty warehouse. The dust left behind dances around them in what little sunlight there’s left. 

“It’s time to go.” Connor breaks the silence solemnly. 

“What about the revolution?”

Connor stands over his copy. An exact replica of him with a perfect little halo of blue blood at the center of his forehead. The rest of the Thirium pooling around the back of his head. It weighs in on Connor to see himself like that, eyes open and glazed as if looking beyond him. Connor kneels and closes his copy’s eyes. “I don't think I want to be a part of it.” 

“Where would you like to go?” Hank reaches for Connor’s hand who gladly takes it and allows himself for Hank to pull him close against him. 

“I don’t know.” And he truly doesn’t. All this time he’s been… preparing for the purpose to solve problems, mysteries. To put pieces together. He knows that this… around him. Isn’t it. But he likes the idea of figuring it out, he knows that when he looks at Hank things make sense and Hank feels it as well, they both do. That comfort in those dark desert nights. “With you?” 

Hank leans in and kisses Connor, at long last finally getting to know what those lips feel like. Soft, warm and pliant when pressed together. The warehouse, the revolution, Nain Rouge, everything melts away into that sunset kiss.


End file.
